I Can't Sleep
by shadowedstormy
Summary: Varrick really just wants sleep, precious, wonderful sleep, but he's too busy. He really wants to sleep, but he can't,


Varrick sighed as he finished the sentence. He pushed the paper away from him and leaned back in his desk, raising his arms to stretch out the kinks in his back. _Looks like another massage session tomorrow,_ he thought as he rubbed his lower back, _if I have time._

Time. What was the time? The Southerner checked the candles. Half twelve. Of course. He groaned as he reached for another form. This was a patent request for a new invention. It had to be personally handwritten and signed. He had another three to do including this one, and there were all those business requests and deal that he'd have to read over and write replies to as well.

He huffed, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his face and tangled his fingers in his dark hair. Varrick hated paperwork. It was an evil on the world. An idea hit him. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and some ink, writing down points. A new invention which would revolutionise paperwork, as in, get rid of it.

It would have to be lightweight, but able to hold lots of forms at the same time, like a clipboard, but better. Maybe something that didn't need to be written out, similiar to the telegraph, but so normal people could use it. Maybe it could be mechanical.

His hand shuddered as he remembered everything else he had to do. He had to finish those patent forms for tomorrow evening and here he was, getting distracted. Why did Zhu Li have to take nights off? She wasn't the only one who needed sleep, if she even did that. Varrick was ninety-six percent sure that his assistant was some sort of machine. It was the only explanation.

Varrick yawned as he picked up the patent form again. Oh he wanted sleep. He wanted to be able to just snap his fingers and have his work already be done so he could just get some precious wonderful sleep. But it wasn't done, and no matter how much money and power you had, you still had to work.

A cold breeze drifted in through the open window. It didn't bother him like it would have someone like Zhu Li or Asami or most of his other business partners. They were from places like Republic City or the Earth Kingdom. One of his old business partners was from the Fire Nation, and shivered at the slightest breeze.

Varrick loved the cold. It reminded him of home, of where he grew up.

He missed his childhood sometimes. Yes he was a target for the bullies, what with him being scrawny and hyper and never knowing when to shut up. It wasn't because he couldn't bend, being a nonbender wasn't a big deal in the Water Tribes, not like Republic City. It was just that Varrick was Varrick. His older brother and sister, his protectors, were both nonbenders like him and could easily kick the ass of just about anyone in the tribe.

Except for Senna because that girl was scary as Koh when she got mad. And she was the best waterbender in school. No one crossed Senna.

His siblings though, they were tough and rough, thriving in the Southern Tribe society; his siblings would be hunting and ice-dodging with the others while skinny little Varrick was sitting on top of the family igloo reading about Great Inventions of the Hundred Year War.

Yes, it was a war. There was death and murder and fighting and just general evil, but it did cause a technological boom. And Varrick would sit quietly and draw ideas for how he could play his strengths to make it in the new world. Sometimes his little brother, the baby of the family, the precious little waterbender, Varrick's favourite, would join him. He was the one who helped Varrick realise how to become successful.

He wasn't strong and he wasn't a bender. He was from the Southern Water Tribe, which generally was not regarded as the land of entrepaneurs. But Varrick had preserverance, determination and charsima. He was smart, savvy and an excellent judge of character. If only he could add 'not a procrastinator' to his long list of good qualities.

He hated paperwork. He didn't mind work, he'd done a lot of boat mending as a kid, but paperwork was not his friend. He rubbed his eyes. There was no time to waste, he was too busy, had too much to do.

He could easily see the finished product, but when it came to doing the work... That led to nights like these. Too stressed to sleep and too tired to work.

The Southerner pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night. He hoped Zhu Li didn't walk in on him. She'd look at him in that disapproving way that made him feel like a tiny little sea prune, silently telling him that he should have just gotten the work over and done with when he first got it. He knew that, but knowing and doing were very different.

The Water Tribe man sighed again, the words were scratched onto the paper, the candle flickered and popped once, the lately ever-present shadows under the man's eyes grew.

He really wishes he could sleep, but he can't.

* * *

><p><strong>Venting. Pure and simple venting that somehow turned into a character study. This is basically how I felt at the time I wrote this. I'm in my second-to-last year of high school doing two histories, two sciences, advanced maths and english. I am also a perfectionist, procratinator, and I don't handle stress well. Someone kill me. I'm like watching the Hindenburg crash in slow motion.<strong>

**But seriously, I really love Varrick. He's awesome. There should be more of him in Book 4. I realsie that I've probably made him sound depressed, but he's tired and running a company is probably not an easy thing. So he'd probably has some moments of non-hyperness.**

**(Also please don't rant about how your life is worse then mine because of assorted problems that I'm sorry to say I don't care about. I know I should be grateful and I am but I'm freaking the fuck out and I just need to vent.)**


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